


Goodnight Bad Morning

by menel



Series: Under the Black Light [1]
Category: Justified
Genre: Developing Relationship, Episode Tag, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 22:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menel/pseuds/menel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unless it has to do with guns and shooting people, Tim and Raylan both have bad timing. Maybe that’s why they’re still together. Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodnight Bad Morning

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is an episode tag to 4x04 This Bird Has Flown. The title is courtesy of The Kills.

Raylan’s not sure what time it is when he gets back to Lexington and drags himself up the stairs to his apartment above the High Note bar. He knows it’s late but not as late as he thinks it is judging by the boisterous crowd he passed by on his way in. The crowd could stay until four in the morning for all he cares. He could sleep through just about anything right now. 

Something strikes him when he opens the door to his place, a pang that hits him in the chest for a moment. He can’t quite identify it. Maybe regret. Remorse. Disgust. Self-loathing. But Raylan isn’t big on feelings and the pang is fleeting, quickly overtaken by the bone-numbing fatigue, not to mention the aches and pains courtesy of Randall, from such a god-awful day. 

He heads straight for the bedroom, shedding his denim jacket along the way. He misses the coat rack on his left when he half-heartedly attempts to hang the jacket but clothes strewn on the hallway leading to his bedroom are hardly a rare occurrence. They’re usually more of them, in fact, both of the male and female variety. A few more steps and he’s inside the room, heading straight for the bed like it’s got a homing beacon. He collapses on top of it, face first. He inhales the sharp pine scent of freshly changed sheets but he knows that’s gotta be a mistake. Doesn’t stop him from enjoying the smell as he digs out his badge and puts it on the bedside table. He’s fishing for his piece next when a sound from the bathroom drives all the fog from his mind and before he knows it, he’s drawn his gun and is pointing it at the bathroom door. 

It’s Tim who emerges, freshly showered and wearing only a white bath towel around his waist. Suddenly the source of the clean sheets becomes clear, even as Raylan notes that he probably doesn’t have any fresh towels, certainly none that are that sparkling white, which means that Tim probably brought his own. Now that he’s more alert, a quick sweep of the bedroom doesn’t reveal the ransacked mess he left behind last night, but an immaculately clean, properly ordered room. Tim’s been busy. Raylan wonders how long he’s been here. 

“That how you greet all your guests?” 

Raylan shrugs and leans over to put his gun beside his badge. “Only the unexpected ones,” he answers and then pauses. “And some of the expected ones,” he amends, leaning back against the headboard and settling into a familiar sprawl that he knows both irritates and turns on the other man. 

“And here I thought I was special.” 

Raylan smiles and bites back the reply that almost slipped out. _You are._ It’s been a long day. His defenses aren’t as sharp as they should be and Tim has taken him by surprise. Tim’s been doing that a lot lately and Raylan isn’t quite sure what to make of it. He knows that Tim gets off on irking him, on pushing and pushing until he’s out of his comfort zone. Raylan enjoys the challenge. He gets off on it too. Tim’s been like that since day one but somewhere along the line the teasing and the banter had moved from the professional sphere into the personal one, as seamlessly as the shift from colleagues, to friends, to . . . well, Raylan didn’t exactly think of Tim as his lover, but to call what they did simply ‘fucking’ was also too crass. ‘Fuck buddies’ would probably be the closest to describing what they did, but it also didn’t settle too well with him. 

It took Raylan a while to figure this out (because most of the time sex was just sex), but when he did the warning bells that started going off didn’t stop him from still sleeping with Tim. His personal life was a train wreck waiting to happen in that way. What Raylan had figured out was this: Contrary to popular belief, he and Tim didn’t view what they did the same way at all. Raylan liked sex and he was not the type to go without, especially since it had always come so easy to him. And yes, it was kind of a douche thing to sleep with other people but it’s not like he picked up someone new every night (it was only Lindsey and look how well that had turned out). Plus, Tim had made it damn clear from the start that what they had wasn’t ‘exclusive,’ wasn’t even any kind of relationship. Except . . . except that Raylan now knew that Tim wasn’t sleeping with anybody else. Hadn’t been with anybody for a while in fact, until Raylan came to town. And the reason for that was simple. While Raylan preferred women and could count on one hand the number of men he’d fucked in his life, Tim was gay and the only person he’d ‘outed’ himself to in Lexington was Raylan. Tim hadn’t actually admitted this out loud, but Raylan would bet his left nut on it. It just made . . . sense. And when he thinks of what it must’ve been like in the Rangers for Tim with the army’s bullshit DADT policy during his service, the anger that provokes in him is a clue that he’s likely in trouble when it comes to Deputy U.S. Marshal Tim Gutterson. But what the hell was he doing thinking about this shit when Tim was in his room now, dressed in a _towel_ , and had obviously cleaned his place up like he was the goddamn housekeeper? 

“What’re you doing here?” Raylan asks, his mouth finally catching up to his brain. 

Tim has wandered over to the bureau where Raylan now sees a small black duffel and has to hide another smile. Always the army Ranger, always so prepared. It was part of Tim’s charm and something to irk him about. 

“Rachel filled me in,” Tim replies almost disinterestedly as he’s going through his bag. He stops for a moment and gives Raylan a pointed look. “Normally, I’m not one to gloat but . . .” The pause is maddeningly perfect. “Told you I was better for you than Lindsey.” 

Raylan figures he deserves that. “What?” he says instead. “You mean you’re not going to steal my nest egg, ransack my room, break my heart and leave me with a van full of poultry?” 

Tim’s lips quirk ever so slightly but he manages to keep his expression neutral when he replies, “Well, maybe I’ll break your heart." 

Raylan doesn’t even try to hide his smile at that remark. 

“At least, I don’t have ex-MMA boyfriends hanging around to beat the crap out of you.” 

“What about ex-Ranger boyfriends?” 

Tim tenses for a moment and it’s all Raylan can do not to slap himself. God, he can be such an asshole sometimes. But Tim is a cool cucumber himself and he takes the jab in stride. “Nah,” he says. “I’ve been diagnosed as ‘emotionally unavailable.’” 

“Isn’t that my line?” 

“Isn’t that why we’re both here?” 

‘Here’ has too many shades of meaning for Raylan’s liking and so he decides to narrow it down to just one. “Don’t bother,” he says when Tim resumes going through the duffel bag. 

Tim doesn’t pay any attention to the request. 

“With the clothes,” Raylan clarifies. 

That gets Tim’s attention and he stops, holding a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that he’s pulled out of the bag. 

“How else can I thank you for your services if you put clothes on?” Raylan motions at the general state of the room that’s never been more put together than it was at that moment. 

Tim shrugs. “Terms and conditions are negotiable.” 

“Get over here.” 

Tim waits just long enough that Raylan thinks he might not comply before putting his jeans and T-shirt on top of the bureau (both still neatly folded) and then moving towards the bed. Much to Raylan’s disappointment, Tim doesn’t drop the towel. He forgives the other man when Tim straddles him, his hands automatically settling on Tim’s hips to pull him closer. 

“So, how do folks from Harlan County show their gratitude?” 

“With great generosity,” Raylan answers, giving Tim’s hips a gentle squeeze. “But . . .” 

“But?” 

“But I just realized that I probably don’t have it in me to fuck you through the mattress tonight.” 

“After all that you’re giving me a rain check?” 

“More like a down payment.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

In spite of Tim’s completely unconvinced tone, his hands are busy stripping Raylan of his clothes, to which Raylan is giving his assistance to the best of his ability. Unfortunately, when one of Tim’s hands lands on a particularly sore spot on his chest, he can’t help the grimace that crosses his face. 

“Shit, Raylan,” Tim says in annoyance when the undershirt is gone and he sees the mass of bruises underneath. 

“It’s what happens when you get kicked in the ribs.” 

“You mean used like a punching bag.” 

“Did I mention that the guy was built like a bulldog? Had the tenacity of one too when it came to his woman.” 

“Yeah, the woman that you couldn’t keep your dick out of.” Tim sighs. “Did you get yourself checked out?” he asks after a while. “These could be broken.” 

“They’re not.” 

“Which means ‘no.’” 

“They’re not broken,” Raylan repeats. “I know what broken ribs feel like and this ain’t it.” 

“We should probably bandage them anyway.” 

“Jesus, Tim. You’re not going from my housekeeper to my godamn nurse.” 

“Would you rather I was just your boyfriend?” Tim snaps. 

Raylan curbs the quick reply that he was about to say. He can tell that Tim is genuinely pissed, but he can also see the concern and worry there. It’s kinda touching even though he doesn’t know what the hell it _means_. And the challenge that Tim just issued, albeit in jest, still unsettles him. So his reply is a safe one. When all else fails, go for humor. 

“Why stop there? We already bicker like an old married couple.” 

His answer has the desired effect and he can see the amusement winning out over the irritation in the other man’s eyes. He decides to press his advantage. 

“I thought we were about to have sex. ‘Cos I gotta tell you, it’ll be the highlight of my incredibly shitty day.” 

Tim is shaking his head, probably knowing that he’s giving in too easily. Raylan can all but hear him cursing the ‘Givens charm.’ But he’s already moving down Raylan’s body, undoing Raylan’s belt, tugging down the jeans and Raylan’s boxers. Before Tim had even gotten that far, Raylan had had the sense to kick off his boots. He lets Tim peel off his socks. Somehow Tim still hasn’t lost the damn towel, which means that the Ranger has some mean towel-wrapping skills. 

“Look old man,” Tim says when he’s moved back up Raylan’s body. “Let me just suck you off and then I’ll take that rain check.” 

Raylan is going to protest but Tim doesn’t give him a chance. Tim’s already bent over, taking him in his mouth and coherent speech just isn’t possible after that. After whatever-this-is-started, it didn’t take long for Raylan to discover that Tim had another skill set to add to his list of impressive skill sets. He gives the best head Raylan’s ever had and that’s saying something. Raylan’s no slouch in this department either, but if they were keeping tabs in the bedroom (which they’re not), Raylan would give Tim the W for blowjobs. As for tonight, it’s certainly not about showing off stamina and with Tim working his magic, it’s not long before he’s coming, the slight tug he gives the other man’s hair his only warning before he spills himself. Tim takes it like a pro and when he’s done, he sits back up looking far too much like the cat that just caught the canary. Raylan sits up as well even though his body protests and he really does just want to melt into the sheets. 

“Will you take that towel off?” he asks even as he’s gripping the offending cloth and yanking it loose from Tim’s waist. Simultaneously, he dislodges Tim from his lap and dumps him a little unceremoniously onto his back beside him. Tim looks bemused. 

“I was serious about that rain check,” he says. 

“Fine, take a rain check,” Raylan agrees with a dismissive wave of his hand, but he’s looking down at Tim with too much damn affection. “Can’t let you leave here without showing you some Harlan hospitality.” 

“I’m getting Harlan hospitality _and_ gratitude? Don’t spoil me now.” Tim pauses. “Though from what I’ve seen of both, I probably won’t survive the experience.” 

“This is the _good_ kind of hospitality and gratitude. The kind we reserve for kin.” 

“Are you saying that I’m family, Raylan?” 

“Course you’re family, Tim. You’re part of my Marshal family. Now shut up and let me take care of you.” 

Tim hums in agreement as Raylan goes down on him. He’d been hard since he stepped out of the bathroom and saw that Raylan had drawn his gun on him. Shit like that always made him hard but with Raylan, it had reached a whole new level. Unfortunately, Raylan had had a really rough day, even worse than Rachel had made it out to be and Tim had decided upon seeing him that he wasn’t going to impose. Raylan, however, had other ideas as he so often did and Tim’s normally iron resolve didn’t seem to mean much around the other marshal. Art wasn’t kidding when he’d said that Raylan was a bad influence on them all. He could see the change in Rachel as well. But Tim didn’t mind being Raylan’s sidekick. He knew he had a lot of Raylan in him, he just needed someone like . . . well, Raylan . . . to bring it out. 

It's times like these when Tim is glad that Raylan’s charm is so effortlessly persuasive. Raylan’s hot mouth on him is a helluva lot better than having to beat one out, which he’d resigned himself to do. He was so hard that he could’ve come from Raylan just touching him but he holds on and makes Raylan work for it. Not too long, but just long enough so that he doesn’t embarrass himself. 

When Raylan is done and Tim is boneless and content on the bed, it’s Raylan’s turn to move up his body and eventually settle down beside him, one hand on Tim’s chest, while he props himself up with the other. Tim notes that Raylan isn’t putting any weight on the bruised side of his ribs. He’ll have to remember that the next time they’re out working a case. 

“Okay?” Raylan asks conversationally like they hadn’t just sucked each other off. 

“I should be asking you that,” Tim retorts. 

“I don’t have anything a good night’s sleep isn’t going to fix,” Raylan replies. “You’re staying, right? I can show you more Harlan hospitality in the morning.” 

Tim turns his head to meet Raylan’s gaze. “’Course I’m staying. It’s the first time I’ll be sleeping in clean sheets.” That earns him a smack that he laughs off. “It’s not my fault if you live like a slob. How did Winona put up with you?” 

Raylan’s expression turns dark and Tim realizes that it’s his turn to be an asshole. God, they both have foot-in-mouth disease. 

“She didn’t,” Raylan says quietly. 

“Shit, that’s not what I meant,” Tim begins to apologize but Raylan is talking over him. 

“Y’know, the position for a cleaning lady is open,” Raylan continues in that same conversational tone, “if you want to take it up. Make a little something extra on the side. We could discuss terms and conditions now if you like.” 

Tim can see the opening. Raylan is making things easy on him. He could hit Raylan so hard with this and he knows it’s the smart play. Keep it light, keep up the banter. That’s what they’re good at. Unfortunately, together with his disappearing iron will, Tim usually isn’t very smart around Raylan either. 

“You plan on staying here?” he asks instead. 

“What do you mean?” 

Tim tries not to be distracted by the fingers that are tracing his collarbone. 

“I mean your landlady just took off. How does that work?” 

“The contract’s still signed,” Raylan answers. “And Lindsey was just a co-owner. Don’t know who the rent will go to now but that’s not up to me to sort out.” 

Oh. Not the answer that Tim was expecting. Raylan seems to sense this ‘cos he follows up with, “Why? What were you thinking?” 

Tim knows he should nip this conversation in the bud even if he started it. It’s the smart move. _Don’t say it. Don’t say it,_ a voice nags. Tim hates naggers. 

“I was thinking you could move in with me.” 

The fingers at his collarbone instantly still and Tim thinks the heat of Raylan’s hand might actually burn through his skin. 

“Move in with you,” Raylan repeats. It’s a statement, not a question. 

“I’m not asking you to marry me, Raylan,” Tim says. “I was thinking more like college roommates. Flat mates. That sort of thing?” 

“You keep your part of the place spic ‘n’ span while I live like a slob in the other half?” 

Raylan effortlessly picks up the banter but Tim can see the seriousness in his expression. Tim’s made a mistake. He can tell right away. Raylan is guarded and Tim can’t read him. It’s time to backpedal before he completely ruins their precious equilibrium. Lord knows it was a miracle to find and even when it all goes to shit, he’ll still have to work with the other man. 

“It’s just an idea,” he says as casually as possible. “Another option for you.” 

He’s about to add more but Raylan is cutting him off again. This time it’s not with words but with his lips and it takes Tim several seconds to process what’s happening. Kissing isn’t something they do but Raylan appears to have completely forgotten that and Tim isn’t about to remind him. He turns on his side and presses himself against the other man, allowing Raylan to take the weight off his arm, which he does. That free arm is now around Tim’s back, holding him in place as Raylan explores his mouth. Tim mirrors Raylan’s actions and when his arm curls around Raylan’s waist with their bodies flushed together he can’t believe he hadn’t noticed before this how perfectly they fit. 

The kiss is over and Tim is slightly out of breath. He should’ve known that Raylan would be good at this too. Despite the stubble burn, Tim would be content to sit on a sofa and simply make out with the other man. Raylan is now leaving a trail of light kisses up his jaw and Tim lets him. He’s tense, like his finger is on the trigger and he’s about to shoot. The vision in his scope is clear but the problem is that all he sees at the end of it is Raylan. And he doesn’t know what the fuck is happening. 

Raylan is kissing him again. It’s softer, gentler, still with a lot of tongue and Tim responds in kind. His tension is bleeding away, the coil in his gut is unwinding. He still doesn’t understand but this feels good. Really good. And when Raylan ends the kiss a second time, Tim is looking directly into his warm brown eyes. 

“I’ll think about it,” Raylan says. 

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: _Justified_ belongs to FX, Graham Yost and Elmore Leonard. No offense is intended, no profit is being made.


End file.
